


To Fight The Second Battle

by drifting_chronotope



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Comfort, Emotional Sex, Gentleness, Love, M/M, Orsimer are Lovers and Fighters, Porn with Feelings, Sensuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 13:13:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12631761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drifting_chronotope/pseuds/drifting_chronotope
Summary: After the Forsworn are driven out of Kolskeggr Mine, Pavo and Gat return home to pick up the pieces. But echoes of the attack still linger and this night Gat finds himself needing his friend's comfort when dark memories crowd his sleep.





	To Fight The Second Battle

A caress on his cheek startled Pavo from sleep. He found Gat crouched by his bed, his face dim in the little light there was, but Pavo didn’t need light to know Gat’s face. His nerves relaxed. They had only returned to the house a few days ago and only yesterday finished clearing out the last of the debris from Kolskeggr Mine. They’d both been jumpy. He offered his friend a sleepy smile and Gat returned it, his broad palm cradling Pavo's cheek again. Gat understood.

"Still Loredas, for a little longer anyway," Gat said before Pavo could think to ask the hour.

“Hunting for a midnight snack, eh?" Pavo teased in a scratchy waking voice. His smile curved into a grin. "Here I thought you'd lost interest in this old man."

Gat made a disapproving noise. "Old man, my hairy arse," he grumbled. "We were mining like demons to meet our quotas. Lucky to get the rest we got." His expression sobered. "And then the attack."

Pavo pressed his cheek into Gat’s hand. "How are you doing?"

"Couldn’t stop hearing the screams. Had to get up. That night..." Gat said, his thumb brushing Pavo’s cheek. "Don't know what I'd've done without you."

Pavo slid Gat's hand from his cheek to his lips and kissed his palm. He smiled as Gat raised his head and looked into Pavo’s face, looked as if he were memorizing each line.

"You’d’ve fought like the Orc you are," Pavo said, softly. "I’m no braver than any other man about to lose everything he loves."

Gat ducked his head to hide his eyes but Pavo still felt the shudder of emotion. His voice was hushed and close when he spoke again, and his fingers trembled against Pavo’s skin.

"I need you, Pavo,” he whispered. “I almost lost you in that mine. If I had lost you—I need you."

"Of course, Gat,” Pavo said, a bit dumb. “Always."

"Good," Gat said, lifting his head. He smiled. "C'mon, I've laid furs out."

Pavo chuckled and blinked sleep away as Gat urged him out of bed. He peered around the familiar room. The cooking fire had been tempered into a warm, molten glow and it was enough light for him to see thick furs piled over a spread of straw in roughly the space where their table set ought to be. The table and chairs he saw had been neatly moved to a far wall. Pavo felt a sting of fear. Gat always had been light-footed, but he must have been moving about for some time in their small living room.

All that movement and none of it had stirred Pavo’s sleep.

"Hey," Gat whispered at him. He pulled on Pavo’s shirt, pulling his mind away from the fears neither of them needed to voice to recognize. "You know I’m the lighter sleeper. If there’s trouble I bellow like a bull and wake half the countryside."

"Yeah." Pavo’s chuckle was shaky, but still a chuckle. "Yeah, and my snoring scares the draugr away."

"Always said we’re a team."

That brought a smile back onto Pavo’s face. He looked at the pile of furs and snorted. He nudged Gat’s ribs.

"You made us a nest,” he said with a laugh. "My Orc’s in the mood to lay his Man down and take him on the hides of wild beasts, eh?"

"More room on the floor," Gat said gruffly.

Pavo's chuckling was breathier now, excitement quickly replacing the remnants of sleep and fear. Gat manoeuvred him onto the furs, and together they worked to divest the other of clothes. Neither tried to rush. It _had_ been time since they’d last touched like this. There was remembering to be done.

Pavo ran his hands over Gat’s chest, stroking fingers down between his pectorals, rubbing them over defined abdominals. He wouldn’t say he was envious of how easy it was for Gat to keep the tone physique he’d had since he could remember, but Pavo did make a point of enjoying it. Gat made a noise of pleasure, pressing into his touch, and Pavo grinned, redirecting his hands to stroke the outsides of Gat’s strong thighs.

"You feel good," Pavo murmured, palms skating back up over Gat’s chest. He could feel Gat’s breath catch as he held his hand over his heart.

"Feel even better inside you," Gat whispered, his own palms on Pavo’s hips, thumbs rolling over padded points. "That okay?"

Pavo hummed. "Quite."

Gat snickered softly and guided Pavo onto his back, crouching over him, elbows and knees bracketing him into a haven of body heat and Gat's particular heady scent. He smelled like earth, stone, like the oiled leather of his mining gloves. He smelled of everything Pavo considered good and safe. Pavo smiled up at him and Gat dipped his head, first only brushing his lips and tusks over his lips, then kissing him, tender and careful.

He took hold of Gat’s biceps and let him guide their lips, moving with him, waiting for the moment that Gat gently urged their mouths opened and then licked inside. Gat's smell, Gat's mouth, Gat's broad body covering him… Pavo gripped at him tighter, his hips angle upwards in search of missing friction.

Missing friction until Gat sank his body down and Pavo groaned in relief. They rocked together, gently, taking time to remember this, too.

"Missed you, Pavo," Gat groaned against his lips. "Missed _us_."

Gat braced his hands on the floor and thrust harder against Pavo, wide nostrils flaring as he let his body enjoy the rut. Soft grunts of pleasure left Gat’s throat, rocking his heavy cock into Pavo’s, filling the room with the quiet sounds of skin on skin and breath turning ragged. Gat rolling down as Pavo rolled up, sliding hot flesh and hard muscle. Pavo was growing breathless between Gat's tongue and the feel of his sex becoming slick in the curve of his hipbone.

Gat slowed and stilled, pressed his hips down to feel the beat of their trapped erections. He dipped his head again to kiss at Pavo’s panting mouth, smiling, foolish.

"Let me up," Gat said after another kiss.

Pavo obliged, giving him a squeeze before releasing him. He watched as Gat shifted aside and reached for a curious bottle Pavo’d overlooked in his earlier inspection.

"Got it from the Khajiits that set up camp outside the city," Gat muttered as he fumbled with the cork. "Felt pretty nice when I tested it out."

"You’ve been with somebody else?" Pavo mimed outrage. He couldn’t help the faint pang of jealousy. They’d known one another for a very long time yet they’d never out-right promised to be exclusive. It just sort of worked out that way.

Gat rolled his eyes. "If my hand counts then, yeah, I’ve been fooling around on you."

"Oh, I see," Pavo said mildly. The egalitarian in him wished he didn’t feel so pleased. "You’ll have to introduce me one of these days."

"Malacath’s stones, you’re impossible."

Gat grinned and shifted back against Pavo. He stroked over his stomach, eyes roaming over skin Pavo knew was tanned uneven and rougher with age. Gat’s eyes caught the glowing firelight and Pavo only saw arousal in his face as he caressed Pavo’s body. His thick fingers swirled over the silver-grey hairs curled on Pavo’s chest, following the sparse trail down his belly, stirring up desire until Pavo felt himself getting lightheaded all over again.

"Flip over for me," Gat said, moving again to give Pavo space to roll over. He watched Pavo tuck his knees under and press his face against the furs. If his eyes had been reflecting the firelight before, they were now burning with a fire all their own as Pavo arched his rear up, muscles flexing as he settled into the position.

"Missed this plump arse, too," he heard Gat say, deep voice rumbling with satisfaction. He settled behind Pavo and gently pushed his cheeks further apart.

"You want my tongue?"

Pavo felt his face heat. "Not tonight," he said. He chewed a little at his mouth because the feeling of Gat’s stout tusks digging into his skin while his thick tongue worked inside of him had become one of Pavo’s secret favourite things. "Wasn’t really expecting this."

"I like it, you know. Wouldn’t offer if I didn’t."

"Just the oil," Pavo said quickly, smothering the words in furs, as if that was going to distract him from thoughts of Gat’s mouth.

Gat grunted. "Offer stands."

His hands left his backside. Pavo heard the chafing of skin and then he felt the warm, slippery lightness of Gat’s fingers sliding over his tender skin. He shifted more weight onto his elbows, letting Gat's slow massage work its magic on relaxing tight muscles.

"That _is_ nice oil," Pavo murmured.

"Yeah?" Gat chuckled. "Told you."

They’d been with one another often enough that Gat knew what he was doing when it came to getting Pavo to open up for him. He added another drop of oil and swirled it into his ring and then pushed his fingers inside. Pavo fluttered at the sensation, his own fingers gripping at the furs, his thighs trembling as Gat wiggled deeper, firmer, growing bolder the more often Pavo let out one of his soft sounds he would swear to his grave was not a whimper.

"Ah," Pavo sighed, "good," and Gat’s fingers responded, hooking in and pressing down, rubbing.

Pavo nearly purred into the furs. His hips swiveled, working with the motion of Gat’s fingers curling inside, pushing back, feeling his pulse start to hum as pleasure built and burned, thrumming through his loins. He felt the familiar electric tingling, too fast, too soon, and it took him a shameful amount of effort to choke out, " _Gat_ ," suck in another lungful of air, " _wait_."

"Hm?" Gat sounded distracted and Pavo couldn’t blame him. He stopped his rubbing but left his fingers buried inside, Pavo’s passage quivering around their warmth. "You don’t want to come on my fingers?"

Pavo bit back his whine. A part of him desperately wanted just that. His body was hungry for Gat, hungry for all the things they’d put on hold to meet their last few orders, but he wasn’t the young buck he’d been when they’d first started sharing bedrolls. Gat often forgot that. Pavo wanted to last for him tonight. He breathed carefully and guided himself away from the edge, even as Gat’s fingers were attempting to lure him right back towards it.

"Want to kiss you," he whispered once he’d found his voice again.

Slippery fingers promptly slid out, Pavo twisting as Gat crawled over him to catch him in a kiss that was much more hurried than their first. This kiss was messier, clumsier, and Pavo loved it. He latched his arms around Gat’s neck and held him down into it, sucked on the root of Gat’s long tusk, licked his way right back inside his mouth to tickle sharp teeth and hot tongue alike.

He felt Gat’s cock dragging a wet trail along his hip and he slipped a hand down, ready for it when Gat pushed into his palm. A soft noise escaped him that made Pavo’s own cock twitch. Gat trembled around him. Pavo tugged him gently, his other hand squeezing Gat’s nape, keeping him close.

"I’m here, Gat," Pavo murmured against his mouth, "I’ve got you."

Gat made a sound like a sob. "Almost lost you," he whispered.

"I’ve got you," Pavo whispered into his ear, "not going anywhere," pulling him even closer, because he’d almost lost Gat too.

They stayed like that, wrapped tight, Gat slowly pushing into Pavo’s hand, Pavo kissing Gat’s jaw. Pavo had missed that, the unhurried sensation, the simple trust of touching and feeling and not asking anything more. _That_ he had missed, desperately, he realized.

He hadn’t thought he’d ever get his life back, not a second time. Not after watching his mine burn, his friends bleed out, broken, gutted. Not after attending the burial service to honor dead whose bodies they would never recover. Not again. The War had been once enough, and Pavo had locked those horrors away. Gat helped him. He became his partner. Gat stood with him when he claimed his mining rights and traded sword for mining pick, when he started chipping out gold from stone rather than gold from blood. Together they left the War behind. Together they helped each other to let their wounds scab and heal, to let old memories dull and fade. And then it all came back. All the nightmares came to life and Pavo had thought everything lost.

"Let me up," Gat said again, mumbling now, arousal making his words heavy.

Pavo made a contented noise and did as asked, leting Gat shift him and move between his thighs and pull him into his lap. He grinned at Gat’s sweaty face and puffed lips. He knew he didn’t look any better. His grin became an outright smirk when Gat lifted him to slip a folded fur under his lower back.

Pavo winked and wiggled in show of appreciation for the extra cushioning. "Spoiling me, eh?"

"Mmhm," Gat rumbled. He took pleasure in running his palms up the back of Pavo’s thighs as he bent his legs, following the motion forward to touch his forehead to Pavo’s. "Can’t have you complaining of a backache tomorrow, can I?"

Pavo chuckled, arms wrapping around Gat’s shoulders. "Right," he breathed out, kissed the flat of Gat’s nose, "we’ve got a mine that needs us."

And then he was trying his damnedest not to squirm when Gat’s cock brushed over his hole and pushed in. He let out a soft cry, because even stretched and slick with very fine oil it had been a while and Gat was not like any a common man. But Pavo’s body knew Gat. Trusted Gat. Wanted Gat.

"That's me, Pavo," Gat murmured, holding Pavo’s body in place as he sank deeper inside. "You feel me, don’t you?"

"I feel you," Pavo said, breathed, "I feel you,” relaxing, urging him, "Let me have it, Gat. Let me have it all."

"All of it," Gat grunted, "All of it," pushing, pulling, back then in, not stopping until he rocked flush against him, not until all of his thick cock felt the squeeze of Pavo's racing pulse and shudders of pleasure.

"That’s me," Gat whispered, voice almost lost to their breathing, but Pavo didn’t need to hear Gat to understand. He squeezed him tighter and concentrated on breathing every time one of Gat’s thrusts made his vision swirl and air rush out. Gat fucked like he mined, knowing just how to bend Pavo’s body to find the right angle for his next strike. Pavo held on, letting Gat work him into the bed of furs, letting his own orgasm rise and burst and Gat fucked him through it.

"You and me, Pavo," Gat said.

"Always, Gat," Pavo gasped, voice trembling but his hands grasping hard.

Gat grunted and bent him deeper. Pavo’s muscles went weak as the rhythm became a pounding, became the hapless, blissful thrusts of Gat spending his release.

They took time for this too. To enjoy the slow calming of their heartbeats. The breathlessness and the subtle ache of muscles. The gradual breathing as they gathered enough wits and cognisance to think beyond their tangled senses. Pavo smiled, languid and floating, eyes closed, still alternating between petting Gat’s skin and running his fingers over the furs. Gat shifted carefully, resettling Pavo into a less demanding position, but he did not abandon his place between Pavo’s legs.

After a few more breaths, Pavo heard Gat chuckle, his deep voice roughed with sex, and Pavo took childish satisfaction that he still sounded a little winded. Gat chuckled again when Pavo nudged his shoulder, the soft sound vibrating through his chest and into Pavo’s body.

"You look good when I’ve got you all fucked-out," Gat said, explaining. "I like how you pout your lips. It’s cute."

Pavo laughed. Only Gat would say that. He never seemed to mind Pavo’s sunburned complexion or thinning hair or any of the thousand other signs that marked him as an ageing, fallible man. He brushed his fingers over the spot he’d poked on Gat’s arm.

“I always look good,” Pavo said, smiling. “The pout is just a bonus.”

Gat snorted, wrapping arms around his waist with little regard to the mess, and Pavo didn’t need to see his face to know he was grinning. He listened to the sputter of the cooking fire, the creaks of settling wood; he inhaled the smells of straw and wood and wool and metal. Familiar sounds. Familiar smells. Home. They were home and they were _safe_.

He stroked Gat’s scalp, his nape, and whispered, “We’re still here, Gat.”

“We’re still here, Pavo,” said Gat.


End file.
